


A Broken Halo That Used to Shine

by D20Owlbear



Series: 12 Days of Blasphemy [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 12 days of blasphemy, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Coming Untouched, Crowley Has Nonspecific Genitals (Good Omens), Halo Kink, M/M, Mention of Edging, Other, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rated R for Riding, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), broken halo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:27:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21799087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D20Owlbear/pseuds/D20Owlbear
Summary: Aziraphale has a kink for bringing out Crowley's broken halo and holding onto him by it. Crowley likes it.Day 1: Halo
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: 12 Days of Blasphemy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1570819
Comments: 25
Kudos: 356
Collections: 12 Days of Blasphemy, Top Aziraphale Recs





	A Broken Halo That Used to Shine

**Author's Note:**

> [Original Tumblr Post for 12 Days of Blasphemy](https://d20owlbear.tumblr.com/post/188873588263/12-days-of-blasphemy)
> 
> Feel free to join! We'd love more!

Aziraphale’s grip on Crowley’s shoulder was bruising, the hand on his opposite hip would leave finger marks, and if he were lucky, he’d be left with a delicious ache in his hips from how roughly he was being fucked into.

Crowley canted his hips up, arched his spine, and gave into the waves of pleasure rolling through him with every drag of Aziraphale’s cockhead over the swollen bundle of nerves inside him. With a wanton moan, he shifted his weight to his elbows in an attempt to get to push his arse up for an angle that would push Aziraphale into him even deeper, to fill himself to bursting with his angel. Catching on, Aziraphale used the hand digging into Crowley’s shoulder to yank him back up and hold him in place at the hip, his own thrusts not missing a beat even as he had to change his own angle to continue to fuck up into Crowley instead of pulling the demon back to be impaled on his cock.

“No, Crowley,” Aziraphale muttered sharply against the back of Crowley’s neck, leaving a pointed nip over a shoulder blade. Aizraphale’s hand on Crowley’s hip moved up and around to his front, reaching to pinch at a nipple and roll it between his fingertips. Crowley, per Aziraphale’s intent, moaned–a gasping breathy sound–and just about collapsed against the angel’s chest, held up only by Aziraphale’s hands on him and cock in him. 

“We’re doing this my way.” If Crowley could melt any more into Aziraphale’s embrace he would, but instead he laid his head back on Aziraphale’s shoulder and pressed soft, stuttering kisses just under the angel’s ear, reveling in the sharp intake of breath he enticed from Aziraphale.

Aziraphale let go of Crowley completely and pushed him off and down to the bed, causing Crowley to huff in irritation at the interruption. He was moaning soon after when Aziraphale followed him down to the bed, pinning Crowley with his body and a sharp bite to Crowley's neck that said without words _ you're mine _ . Crowley cried out and arched his back at the shock of divine ecstasy that raced down his spine like lightning as Aziraphale's teeth broke his skin. 

A shattered disc of dim and dying light flickered to life behind Crowley's head, the outer curve smooth and sharp as a knife and looking like the center of it has been torn out with a fist, the quintessence of what used to be Crowley's grace and divinity now nothing more than a hollow, splintered vessel. Aziraphale made a pleased noise in the back of his throat and, coating his tongue with his grace so he wouldn't draw his own blood on Crowley's sharpness, surged up to lave it over the base of the disc where it met with the back of Crowley's neck. Crowley’s hips bucked involuntarily and shuddered with a gasping, heaving breath.

Aziraphale pulled Crowley up to his knees, dragging him from his previous position on the bed with firm hands wrapped around the jagged edges of his once-halo. Crowley thought that it felt almost like being whole again. He keened loudly and followed, happy to let Aziraphale manhandle him however he wished, as long as he never let go of where the holiness had been punched out of his soul. As if he knew what Crowley was thinking, Aziraphale tightened his grip and poured a bit more of his holy energies into his hands to keep the soft human-flesh covering them from being cut up. Crowley’s broken halo brightened, just a little.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale intoned, angling his wrists so that Crowley was forced to look up at him, and all movement ceased, the breath was pulled from their corporations, and then Aziraphale moved in him again. Slow, so slow. Crowley could barely stand it, he writhed and twisted in ways no human could manage as he was driven mad with a need for  _ more _ . More everything, more Aziraphale, more friction, more, more,  _ more _ . 

“ _ Angel _ ,” Crowley whined pitifully around fangs too long for his mouth and a sharp realization that he was being fucked into a more demonic form, whatever tethers of control he had over his body were being untied and he was being unmoored with every  _ slow _ and  _ deliberate _ thrust of Aziraphale’s hips. The scales were black and glossy, running up his spine and unearthing from the skin around his ribs and the sides of his neck, but left his belly and the insides of his thighs as soft, exposed skin, not daring to touch and sully Aziraphale with the markers of his demonic nature. His nails grew down his fingers to the first knuckle and turned into talons, curved and as wickedly sharp as the black obsidian they looked to be made from. Every new grip on the sheets, every desperate scrabble at the headboard for any sort of grounding purchase to drag him from an overwhelming pit of pleasure, was met with ripping and tearing and laceration of the bed Aziraphale pinned him to. 

Aziraphale didn’t bother to respond, by now he knew the demon wasn’t actually asking for his attention when he sounded like that, not when Aziraphale was already so focused on his pleasure, their pleasure. Aziraphale was nothing if not patient. He liked to bask in his pleasures, liked to draw them out as far as possible until it seemed like there couldn’t possibly be any more and then dive right back in to renew it. He slowed even more, shifting his knees wider so that Crowley would be forced to either splay his legs open or curl them around Aziraphale’s hips as he pulled out of Crowley almost entirely before pushing back in and  _ luxuriating _ . 

Crowley whined again, wordless and animalistic in that way of his that Aziraphale was so fond of, and fonder still of pushing him past the point of coherency. The angel grinned to himself, pleased, and tilted Crowley’s head to the side so that Aziraphale could lean down over his shoulder and shuffle forward to press a bruising kiss to Crowley's lips. The, backing off from the biting kiss, Aziraphale leaned down to lay softer kisses, barely whispers of touch, over Crowley’s shoulders. He let go of the halo with a single hand for only as long as it took to guide the tip of his cock back into Crowley’s wet hole, tight and hot. 

Aziraphale moaned breathily in time with Crowley and returned his hand to its place above on Crowley’s halo, using his grip to push the demon forward until Crowley had his clawed hands wrapped around the hardwood headboard of the bed, bracing himself.

“Ready?” Aziraphale asked softly, voice deep and gravelly with love and lust. He already knew the answer, Crowley was whining softly under his breath with every exhale and his eyes were closed in bliss, both divine and carnal, juxtaposed deliciously in the hands of his angel. Crowley nodded anyway, once his mind caught up to the question, spreading his knees for better balance and locking his elbows, his mouth-watering instinctively at the thought of being fucked out of his mind. Aziraphale only ever took hold of his halo like this when he wanted exactly that.

“Good boy,” Aziraphale murmured happily, he readjusted his grip on Crowley’s essence and then pushed his hips forward and up until he was seated fully within Crowley. 

“I’m not going to touch you, my dear,” the angel breathed with a small, smirking smile painted onto his lips, eyes wide and cherubic and looking the very picture of innocence, “And you’re not going to touch yourself. But you will come, I can assure you, darling.” He drew his hips back as slowly as before, making Crowley twist his hips in an attempt to force more friction. 

Aziraphale chuckled and, without further ado, set a punishing pace, using his hold on Crowley’s halo as leverage to move Crowley’s body in time with his thrusts and all the demon had to do was hang on and enjoy the ride. Crowley moaned and gasped and rolled his eyes back at the sheer amount of pleasure coursing through him, the overworked bundle of nerves inside him had been stroked all day and he felt raw in the way overwhelming sensation made a body, and  _ finally,  _ he was getting what he needed. 

Aziraphale’s grace spilling into the hole in his soul and his cock filling a hole in his body, both sliding back and forth in perfect harmony, his ebullience at being used and filled pulled a delighted laugh from Crowley’s throat and his eyes grew wet with overwhelming joy at the simplicity of having Aziraphale at his back and his angel’s Love slotting so perfectly into him. 

Soon, in fact barely any time at all after Aziraphale drew out Crowley’s broken halo, they were both on the precipice of ecstasy. Crowley was barely breathing, lost in the sensations of moving and being moved and being moved within, insensate except for his grip on the headboard, claws dug into the wood itself. Aziraphale moaned and spoke filthy, loving nothings about Crowley and his body and how good he felt wrapped up in Aziraphale’s arms and around his prick, hips stuttering with a rhythm that was quickly turning uneven. Crowley cried out again, loud and wordless, his head thrown back as he came on Aziraphale’s cock, the angel following him soon after with only a few more rough thrusts.

Aziraphale carefully let go of Crowley’s halo, and trailed the pads of his fingers along the razor-sharp outer rim, helping Crowley put it back into the ether, and plucked his claws out of the headboard before they tumbled down into the bed. Crowley’s limbs trembled and Aziraphale firmly stroked over his sides with soft shushing noises as Crowley came down from his high. 

“There we are, my dear. There we are,” Aziraphale murmured with a smile, “I knew you could do it, very good, my love.”

Crowley released another wordless noise in response and buried his face against Aziraphale’s chest, tangling their legs together and gripping tightly around Aziraphale’s waist. 

“Next time you’re the one getting edged all day,” he said into the downy hair that crossed the angel’s chest. Aziraphale just laughed in response and kissed Crowley’s temple.

“Whatever you like, dear boy.”


End file.
